Wednesday, November 17, 2004

Um. Ew. Weird.

The last time I got a promotion, I was thrilled. I got an almost 10% raise, my own office with a door AND a window, tons of new exciting duties, a shiny new G3 (hey, it was 2000), and an awesome new title: managing editor.

I was really, really excited. And I loved my boss, who was tough, smart, fair and very funny. But I didn't love her this much:



Nor did I have a cutsie name for my boss, like Rice does for Bush. She calls him "Doobie." Also "my husband."

You've come a long way, baby!

Seriously, Condi, slap that man with a sexual harrassment suit! Oh wait, I forgot -- you're a total tool. My bad.

6 comments:

  1. Oh, so much to say. So little need to say it.
    Sigh.

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  2. I had to do a double-take on that photo, as it first appeared to be a Photoshopped image of W kissing Gandhi.

    Which I realize is a huge insult to Gandhi - my apologies to his soul.

    Doobie? Nicknames should come in real handy for foreign relations - you know, sort of loosen up the crowds, make everyone feel like they know each other really well.

    "Okay, after having discussed this now for the past three hours, I think we've made some real progress, and it's time to finalize the new Middle East peace proposal. Ponch, you write the executive summary with Cheech. Booger, you and Stinky-Turban need to shake hands for the photographers. And Doobie, you...uh...you just sit over there and finish your juice box and baby carrots."

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  3. Doobie? Tell me you're making that up.

    Please?

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  4. Anonymous9:38 PM

    Come to think of it, if there were *more* doobies in the White House, maybe things would start looking up.

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  5. Whoops. Now I'm anonymous. Sheesh.

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  6. KRIS! "Stinky-turban!" Heh.

    And Frog, apparently she called him that while thanking him for the nomination. On CNN. NO SHAME.

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